


it's too cliché (won't say i'm in love)

by bouquet_of_sharpenedpencils



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale as Hercules, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley as Megara, Disney AU, Gen, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), but is maaaaaybe a little bit in denial, well - implied ineffable husbands, who puts the glad in gladiator?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouquet_of_sharpenedpencils/pseuds/bouquet_of_sharpenedpencils
Summary: Beelzebub took a step toward him, their arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “You were given an asszzignment, Crowley. Find a weakness; then exploit it.”He spread his hands wide in the moonlight, a careless gesture. “I gave it my best shot, but they don’t call him ‘Earth’s Mightiest Hero’ for nothing,” he quipped.ORThe Disney's Hercules!AU nobody asked for
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 39





	it's too cliché (won't say i'm in love)

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to [rumbelleriversong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumbelleriversong) for being my beta reader, and title giver ;)

“Sorry. ’Fraid I can’t help you after all.”

Crowley slouched against the stone column, with an indifferent expression. The long folds of his robe brushed the sandals covering his feet. He should not have looked as graceful as he did – what with the sharp angles, and long limbs – but Crowley had perfected this pose over the millennia. Problem was… he didn’t think Lord Beelzebub was buying it. He pulled his long, auburn hair over one shoulder, careful not to disturb the small blossom tucked at his ear. The evening was warm, but the calculating gaze currently sweeping over him made the hair stand up on the nape of his neck. He looked away. What the Heaven did he think he was doing?

Beelzebub took a step toward him, their arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “You were given an asszzignment, Crowley. Find a weakness; then exploit it.”

He spread his hands wide in the moonlight, a careless gesture. “I gave it my best shot, but they don’t call him ‘Earth’s Mightiest Hero’ for nothing,” he quipped. “Even his heels are perfectly sound. I checked.”

Beelzebub blinked. Crowley dropped his hands with a sigh. No one appreciated his humour. “Anyways, don’t see how I was expected to find a physical weakness, his being an angel, and all. He’s beaten every creature Hell has, and if a human so much as whispers a worried prayer, he’s there.”

He pushed off from the column, turning away from the prince of Hell, and moved towards the edge of the balcony. A light breeze carried the faint perfume of the flowers from the garden below. As he reached the carved stone railing, it tousled his curls, pushing them back from his face. Crowley’s hand jerked to his hairline, anxiously seeking the violet coloured flower that had been placed there so carefully. Was he imagining it, or could he still feel the lingering traces of magic?

Beelzebub stepped toward him. “I thought the Szzerpent of Eden could find any crack. Or the smallest flaw. Even the most deeply hidden secrets.”

His heart picked up at that, traitor that it was. Crowley lowered his hand, and straightened his shoulders.

“Don’t you remember what you promised us, Crowley? What were your exact words? That you could find the weakness of anyone on Earth… _anyone you wanted to_?”

He did not miss the accusation. His voice came back, razor sharp. “Why, Lord Beelzebub, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He could feel the condescension rolling off Beelzebub without looking behind him. “Do you think this angel would hesitate to exploit your weaknesses against you, if given the chance?”

Crowley kept his gaze fixed on the garden ahead. “No,” he said, voice measured, “no, I can’t imagine the Principality of the Eastern Gate would think twice about getting rid of me, if given the chance…”

~

_Aziraphale sips from his cup of wine, looking out over the garden, bathed in fading sunlight. The angel lets out a contented sound. “You know,” he begins, in a conspiring tone, “after millennia on this planet, I find myself rather proud of all the humans have accomplished.”_

_“You wanna be careful there, angel,” Crowley teases, “pride is one of ours.” Aziraphale tuts exasperatingly in Crowley’s direction, but there’s a kind of fondness underneath it. Crowley’s breath hitches. Blessed lungs._

_“That’s not what I mean, dear boy. I mean, it makes me glad to – to know where they started, and see how they’ve grown. I see all the knowledge they carry, all the good they are capable of, all the love they freely give each other…” The angel’s voice trails off. His eyes seem unfocused. A tiny crease appears on his brow. He resumes in a soft voice, “I have even… on occasion… I have almost wished to be like them.”_

_Crowley’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He huffs a short, humourless laugh. “You want to be petty and dishonest?”_

_That brings Aziraphale’s attention back to him. The crease on his forehead grows deeper. “Not all of them are like that, Crowley.”_

_“Sure they are. They’re human. They’ve all got a bit of nastiness in there somewhere.” Guilt coils its way around his heart. Rather than try to decipher the look the angel is giving him, Crowley drains the last of his wine, and sets down his cup, hard. “And that’s where I come in, isn’t it? Find their weakness… and exploit it. That’s my job,” he sneers. It’s almost a shame the angel doesn’t see the irony in his words. With a snap of his fingers, his cup fills itself once more._

_He feels a hand rest gently on his knee, and – Somebody, how he’d missed this angel’s warmth._

_“You’re not like that either, my dear.” Aziraphale’s voice is soft, as are the fingers that brush Crowley’s hair over his shoulder._

_“How do you know what I’m like,” Crowley mutters, still not meeting the angel’s gaze._

_He hears a small chuckle. ”Because,” the angel begins, “I’ve known you as long as I’ve known the humans.” With a hand still on his knee, Aziraphale places two fingers under his chin, gently tilting his head up. “And I’ve seen you at work, you wily serpent.” The angel’s voice gets bolder with every word; his smile growing wider. “And I know that no matter what Hell may tell you…”_

_Aziraphale waves his hand, and pulls a hyacinth blossom from the air. Crowley freezes. Leaning forward, the angel sweeps back his curls, and positions the flower gently behind his ear. Soft fingers glide through Crowley’s hair as the angel pulls back to admire his work. The five pointed petals curl outwards into the evening air; the soft violet colour stands out against the bright auburn, shining in the last of the light._

_Smiling fondly, Aziraphale returns his gaze to meet Crowley’s. “No matter what Hell may tell you, Crowley,” he starts again, “I know, deep down, you still care.”_

~

Crowley jerked out of his reverie, and turned to find Beelzebub at his elbow.

“We expected more from you, Crowley. Your reports are a disappointment; you’re barely meeting your quota. I didn’t think you were fit for this assignment, and you’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.”

Crowley returned the disgusted look on Beelzebub’s face with one of his own. “So sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid perfection isn’t one of my natural tendencies.” His hair danced in the breeze as he spoke. He swept it aside. “The humans are the only thing he cares for,” he continued. “If we focus on them –”

“That isn’t good enough, serpent.”

“I’ve told you everything I know,” he spat. “He’s only one angel; prone to a few… indulgences here and there. He’s known to read all hours of the night, for one. And don’t get him started on whatever new restaurant he’s enamoured with.” Crowley affected an eye roll, and accompanied it with a grimace. “Not sure what you’d like me to do with that.”

A stronger wind blew errant curls across his face once more, and he let out a frustrated sigh, twisting slightly to push them back over his shoulder.

“Perhaps we’re not using the right kind of bait…” he heard Beelzebub mutter.

He straightened to find the prince of Hell leaning close, intruding uncomfortably into his personal space. Crowley tensed, following the squint of their eyes…

He realized too late what had caught the other demon’s attention.

Beelzebub’s hand shot out, grabbing the little flower between two fingers before Crowley could react. Holding it to their face, they called “Grab him!”

Crowley’s heart leapt into his throat. He stepped back instinctively, and stumbled. Hands caught his shoulders, and wrapped around his arms. He turned to look over his shoulder. “Hey guys, fancy bumping into you here.”

“You’re coming with us, Crawly,” Hastur growled. “No funny business.” Ligur only grinned.

Beelzebub turned, still studying the blossom, and began to walk away. “You should be thanking me, Crowley,” they called over their shoulder. “We’ve finally found a way to make you uszzeful.”

Only one tactic left. Crowley clenched his teeth. Twisting sharply forward, he managed to wrench his arm free of Ligur’s grasp. “Lord Beelzebub,” he pleaded, “you’re making a mistake. You won’t be able to defeat the angel without me!”

The prince of Hell turned back with a pitying expression.

Crowley held his breath. One beat. Two.

“You’re quite right, serpent.” They sounded pleased. Too pleased. “I’m afraid you are cruczzial to defeating the angel.”

Crowley watched helplessly as the petals of his flower drifted to the ground, crushed between callous fingers.

“Aszz I said,” they continued, tossing the remains aside, “I don’t think we’ve been using the right bait.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! Thanks for reading my first ever ficlet; hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This piece was inspired by [NaniiebimWorks' fanart](https://naniiebimworks.tumblr.com/post/189210540083/i-wont-say-im-in-love-imagine-crowley-singing) of Crowley and Aziraphale in the style of Disney's Hercules.  
> It took my brain all of three seconds to see the parallel of Crowley being assigned to find out his heavenly counterpart's weakness... and falling in love with him instead.
> 
> And did you catch all the movie references? Let me know down below!
> 
> follow me [on tumblr](https://bouquet-of-sharpenedpencils.tumblr.com/)


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